Loving you
by RawMateriel
Summary: pain, written for QLFC


Written for QLFC Season 5, Semi-Finals

Team: Wigtown Wanderers

Position: Captain

Position Prompt: A fluffy story using the prompt 'the funeral of a loved one' (concept) OR an angsty story using the prompt 'happily married' (concept)

Word Count: 1,000

* * *

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the union of Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin in holy matrimony," the adjudicator said, but in truth it wasn't much of a gathering. Just the two of them and their mothers.

It was a relatively simple affair, Tonks wore her hair in the tightest pink curls. She had planned on a different style, but she was so overwhelmed she could only grow tighter and pinker with each attempt.

Remus was wearing his least-patched coat, and he was smiling. It made him look his age for once, although to Tonks he only ever looked like a prince. A prince of thieves, he'd stolen her heart.

* * *

 _Dear Moony,_

 _I see the way you look at her and I don't know how many times I have to tell you: I can handle it. I shouldn't need to tell you at all, a wasted old con like me shouldn't even factor into your plans._

 _I know old habits die hard, I know last night was a mistake. Don't let it ruin anything. Life is short mate. You don't have to keep protecting me._

 _I'll be alright._

 _I can see you fussing over this letter wondering what's inside of it, well now you know, nothing special. Just a big list of unsaid things._

 _Take care,_

 _Messr. Padfoot._

* * *

He scooped up his bride and lifted her over the threshold, he tried not to think about it. The truth was, they were both trying not to think about it. She knew about the letters, maybe even more than he did. He'd only ever seen the ones that Sirius had sent him.

She thought one day she might give him the rest.

* * *

 _Dear Remus,_

 _I can already tell from the weight of the quill that this letter will be too heavy for me to tie to any bird. Not with you tied to a bird the way you are. Weighed down by the stink of my black ink. I sometimes wonder if my chest rises only to meet your hand. Rises toward your offer, rises to ward you off her._

 _I ought to know better, Moony. After all of this time, I ought to know better._

 _The places you always moved to when you lived in my house: the same cup, the same chair, the end table where you built your little stack of books. When you're gone they're the only places where I feel like I exist._

 _You know I've always been mad for how you keep me sane, you were my saint in that mad keep. My patron saint._

 _It was a hell of a thing to be read by you and added to the stack you built. I'll spend eternity in the hell you stacked by the chimney stack, happily if I'm honest. The smoke of the cigarette I lit after we tried again to put the fire out between us with our own sweat, it spouted out from the still stocked coals of the hellish flames within my chimney breast. The parts of me that were built by you were always the most structurally sound, maybe that's why they're all that's left now you've left the grounds._

 _I'm trying to impress you with wordplay in a letter I'm never going to send you, do you see what I'm driven to? Chased by our every incarnation, and this our latest: hounds of hell._

 _Yours,_

 _All that's left of me._

* * *

"Remus," she whispered, his name sounded so different in their bedroom. It sounded wonderful.

His hand lay on her pregnant stomach. It was warm and heavy with all of the love that had been extolled upon it.

She hadn't told him yet, about the baby. She'd tell him now, now when things were perfect. They had what she fancied a happiness which could not be ruined by anything but death, maybe not even that. No matter what was to come, this moment would always be hers. The weight of his hand fallen heavy with love could not be lifted, it would sink through time with its density. And she, light and free with her happiness, she'd rise up on top of it and float.

This happiness which could outlive death, she was going to bring it more life.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice deliciously hoarse.

She reached for his hand, placing her on top of his, and then she reached for the words.

* * *

 _Dear Tonks,_

 _I'm willing these letters to you because when I'm gone this is the closest they'll get to fulfilling their purpose. I wrote them because I wanted him to know how it felt to love him. How loved he was._

 _I didn't send them because I knew that it would take more than a letter to convince him. In the end it took you, Tonks. I could never convince him, I'm to charming to be trusted if you can believe that, he told me that once if you can believe that. He's never been good with bloody constructive criticism I'll tell you that much._

 _But Merlin, he's always been good. Maybe the best. Even if he is a walking user guide on how to break hearts past mending._

 _I have adored him since I met him, you know? I've abandoned so much for him, done things he'd never wish on me._

 _I'm sending these to you as well because I'm terrified you might share my fate and I suppose I want you to know that you're not alone. I've been through it and maybe it's bloody worth it, I don't know. I think it probably is, he's the only substance I have left._

 _And he's bloody gorgeous._

 _To have loved and lost and all that._

 _I love you both. Take care of each other._

 _Sirius._


End file.
